Accusation
by Pripyat
Summary: Drabble: Leonardo gets uncharacteristically jealous one day when Ezio brings more than a codex page to him.


It was those noncommittal noises that Leonardo made that bothered Ezio - never the temperament that being around the Assassin was a bother without the involvement of a codex page (never mind that there was a girl under both of Ezio's arms). He used them to pass through Venice unnoticed, blood still fresh on his blade and codex page only just placed in Leonardo's care, but the artist felt personally violated by the presence of Teodora's girls (beautiful and kind as they were) in his shop.

It amazed him how they still behaved in the sanctuary of his home as they did on the streets. As if someone were watching them (his paintings, maybe), and more than a single step away from the Assassin would reveal him to the bloodthirsty guards scouring the canals.

And, yes, it was quite distracting trying to interchange letters on this particular page with forced giggles and hums interrupting his thoughts. Leonardo always thought himself a _maestro_ when it came to multitasking; very few men in Venice, even all of Italy, could boast (not that he was particularly prideful, unlike his friend) his ability to command two talents from either hand at once. Their laughter, their '_bello mio'_s, grated at his mind. It was so unlike Ezio's silence. The Assassin often fell asleep and allowed Leonardo to work in peace-

-the girl furthest from Leonardo's voice fluctuates in surprise, and the sound of the pen snapping between Leonardo's fingers shocks even him as he takes notice of the way his reactions correlate with the pitch of the girls' laughter. Ink spills over Leonardo's fingers and soak into the grooves of his palm. He takes care to leave the codex untainted as he wipes his hand on the hem of his shirt. The black ink looks like a bruise on his off-white tunic, and the darkened fingerprints on the codex begin to trouble him more than the silence stretching behind him.

Leonardo nearly upsets an inkwell when his ears catch a particularly deafening whine. Ezio is standing in the doorway, pressing kisses to the backs of each of the women's' hands, the last of which clutches her heart as if it physically pains them to leave. He hears the relieving sound of Ezio's lower, more soothing voice wishing them well as he closes the door in the wake of their retreating, swaying hips and returns to his friend's side, no doubt with an expectant look that Leonardo does not look up to confirm.

"You've barely made a dent, Leonardo," Ezio observes the placement of Leonardo's finger pad on only the second line of the text. What Leonardo hears is more of an accusation than Ezio's usual playfulness, perhaps carried over from the girls who left only a minute before.

"Perhaps if you would allow me to work instead of looming over me like a vulture-!"

The sweeping motion with his hand does not prompt Ezio to take a step back as does the uncharacteristically bitter tone of Leonardo's voice.

The flash of regret on the painter's face is almost instant. "Ezio, I- I'm sorry. I did not mean to lash out like that."

"It is alright, _amico mio_. I ask so much of you already." Ezio recovers from his shell-shock and retires to a seat near the table. "I am in no hurry." It takes only three lines of coding for Ezio to fall into a deep slumber upright on Leonardo's chair. As Leonardo works, he catches the faint smell of perfume still lingering in his shop, and disappointingly returns to his friend's side with the completed text finding the source of the smell to be soaked as deep into Ezio's armor as the ink remains on Leonardo's tunic.

He opens his mouth to speak, to wake Ezio from his slumber, but considers the peaceful look on the Assassin's face even as perfume radiates from his clothes and blood dries on the hidden blade Leonardo repaired so long ago.

He calls it an artist's appreciation for the figure, or maybe even a scientist's for anatomy. Leonardo's eyes scan every line of Ezio's face, analyzing it as a codex of its own. One so complex he could never hope to decipher it.

Leonardo allows Ezio several more minutes of sleep until he's certain that the smell of perfume is bearable enough to rouse the Assassin. "It is finished." The artist presents his work to the stirring Ezio with a smile. Ezio thanks him mid-yawn, and returns the smile before wishing Leonardo well and leaving his shop in a fashion similar to the courtesans earlier.

Leonardo only wishes that it could be him accompanying Ezio through the streets of Venice-

-keeping the Assassin as unnoticed to the guards as Leonardo feels in Ezio's eyes.


End file.
